A Ring After Ruin

Diana, take Cecilia's place. Go to prison.

When Damian said those words, he couldn't even look me in the eye.

Three years of marriage, and he'd worn me down from a proud heiress to the joke of our social circle.

He bought Cecilia houses. Spent nights with her. Shielded her from everything. And yet he wanted me to take her place behind bars.

I agreed.

After I signed the divorce papers, I turned around and dialed 911. "I'd like to report a hit-and-run. Cecilia Martin fled the scene."

He caught up with me at the airport just as the security gate was slowly closing.

"Diana! You lied to me!"

I didn't look back.

Later, the truth came out.

I heard he searched the world for me like a madman. I heard he finally saw that woman's true colors. I heard he collapsed from kneeling outside my shop.

I never went out.

Not until someone pushed the door open.

The man who once made me take the fall for Cecilia now knelt before me on broken porcelain, holding up a diamond ring.

"Diana, can we remarry?"

Diana's POV

In the dim light of the reunion party's private room, someone brought up old stories.

A red-faced drunk swayed to his feet, wine glass in hand.

"If you ask me, Damian is truly devoted!"

"Back when Diana cheated and guilt-tripped him into a divorce, he actually drove through the night in freezing weather just to chase after her. If it were me..."

Before he could finish, the chatter in the room died instantly.

Several glances flickered in my direction.

Damian's fingers tightened around his wine glass. He immediately turned to look at me.

I acted as if I hadn't heard, simply raising my glass to drain the remaining wine.

When Damian didn't respond, the drunk grew bolder, chuckling as he continued.

"If you ask me, Damian, you should have married Cecilia back then!"

"Cecilia is so gentle and kind. If you two had gotten together, you'd have kids in school by now, right?"

He finished with a suggestive wink at Cecilia in the crowd.

Damian looked over.

Cecilia sat in the brightest spot, wearing a simple white dress, her long hair flowing softly over her shoulders. The light made her look especially pure.

She seemed flustered, biting her lower lip slightly.

Time seemed to stretch and freeze in that instant.

He looked at her. She looked back at him. Neither looked away first.

In that silent gaze, a thousand unspoken words seemed to flow between them, or perhaps it was just the haze of alcohol.

A full minute passed.

"See! I knew you still have feelings for Cecilia!"

The drunk let out a whistle, shattering the silence.

Someone beside him went pale. They lunged to cover his mouth.

"What are you talking about? Shut up if you're drunk."

Only then did Damian seem to snap awake, quickly turning to look at me.

I had already stood up.

Without looking at anyone, I simply grabbed my purse from the sofa and walked toward the door.

Damian instinctively stood up. His feet moved, as if he wanted to follow.

In the end, he stayed where he was.

When I got home, I took a long shower.

The warm water rushed over my skin but couldn't drive away the chill in my bones.

I was towel-drying my hair as I walked out of the bathroom. It was already late at night.

Finally, the sound of keys turning came from the entrance, followed by muffled voices and stumbling footsteps.

The door opened. Damian was practically being carried in by Cecilia.

He was very drunk, mumbling incoherently.

"Cecilia, don't... don't go..."

The man's murmurs came in fragments, carrying unconscious dependence.

Cecilia struggled to support him. Looking up and seeing me, she seemed not to notice my outstretched hand.

Guilt and unease appeared on her face.

"Diana, I'm sorry. Damian drank too much. The others asked me to bring him home. Let me help him to bed first?"

I said nothing, withdrawing my hand and stepping aside.

Cecilia helped him into the master bedroom. Rustling sounds came from inside.

The man occasionally groaned in discomfort. The woman soothed him in gentle tones.

After a while, Cecilia tiptoed out, nodded to me, and hurriedly left.

The door closed again. The house returned to silence.

I walked to the bedroom doorway without turning on the light.

Using the light leaking in from outside the window, I watched the man sleeping on the bed.

I walked over and sat down in the single armchair by the bed.

I don't know how much time passed before Damian frowned and groaned with thirst, instinctively reaching for the nightstand.

In the past, whenever he came home drunk, I always left a glass of honey water at just the right temperature there.

Tonight I hadn't prepared any.

His hand found nothing. His frown deepened as he propped himself up on his arms.

His tone carried the impatience of a hangover and an air of entitlement.

"Why didn't you pour me water?"

Diana's POV

I didn't answer, only looked at him.

Damian seemed uncomfortable under my stare. Rubbing his throbbing temples, he sighed.

"Today was an accident. I drank too much, so I had Cecilia bring me home."

"After all, you left early. I had no choice but to trouble Cecilia."

I remained silent.

His patience finally exhausted, Damian's voice grew heavy with anger.

"I've already cut off all ties with her for you. The baby in her belly is gone too!"

"Diana, what more do you want from me? Do I have to kill her before you're satisfied?!"

After saying this, he seemed to realize his words were too harsh.

He looked away, his voice lowering with guilt.

"Cecilia's family helped me when I had nothing. Without her father's support, I never could have gone from nothing to where I am today."

"Diana, didn't you always tell me that people should repay kindness?"

Those words were like a key, instantly unlocking the floodgates of memory and extinguishing the last light in my heart.

I finally spoke.

"You don't need to explain. I understand everything."

Yes, I understood.

I had believed every excuse like this in the past.

So I could tolerate endlessly how he cared for Cecilia in every aspect of his life, often bypassing me, his wife.

I could tolerate when I had a fever of nearly 104 degrees, curled up in bed burning hot, and he left without hesitation after receiving a call from Cecilia saying she was "scared because the power went out."

I could tolerate carefully dressing up each time, eagerly preparing to attend important events with him, only to receive his slightly apologetic "Cecilia will go in your place tonight. She's new and needs more exposure."

I used to be a proud heiress with my own stubborn principles in relationships.

I loved Damian, which was why I endured again and again.

Each time I told myself that Damian loved me-he only pitied Cecilia, which was why he always sided with her.

Until that time when I had another argument with him over Cecilia and went straight back to my parents' house, but returned early because I was worried about his sensitive stomach.

When I opened the door, I saw overlapping figures in the kitchen.

He was still wearing his loungewear, and Cecilia's skirt was hiked up.

In that moment, I completely lost it.

I smashed every expensive piece of porcelain I could see, rushed up and slapped Cecilia hard several times.

I screamed at Damian to divorce me immediately, or I'd make this scandal known to everyone.

I thought with this evidence, Damian would have to leave with nothing.

But I never expected fate to deliver its heaviest blow so soon.

My family was framed. The company had financial problems uncovered. My parents faced prison.

They had poor health, years of chronic illness. With bodies like that, if they went to prison, they might not even survive the year.

The once-glorious family empire collapsed overnight. All assets were frozen, all connections severed.

With nowhere else to turn, I could only beg my newly divorced ex-husband Damian.

At the time, after hearing my tearful plea, he barely lifted his eyelids.

"Diana."

He called my name, but it was as distant as addressing a stranger.

"I don't know in what capacity I should help your parents. After all, we're just divorced strangers now."

I knelt on the ground, clutching at his pant leg, begging him to remarry me.

But he still wasn't satisfied, his fingertips lightly tapping the table.

He sighed, his tone troubled, but his eyes full of calculation.

"You know your family's situation is quite complicated. I don't have enough authority to pull many strings. Many things are beyond my power."

"But I'm getting promoted at the end of the month. Then things will be easier."

"However, you should understand-infidelity really damages one's reputation. It's bad for me and for Cecilia."

I understood.

Damian wanted me to take all the blame for the affair, to whitewash him and Cecilia.

I finally said those words: "It was all my fault. Nothing happened between you and Cecilia."

My entire being seemed to have its spine removed, wilting instantly.

And he finally bent down, pulling me into his arms, kissing my cold forehead.

"I promise you, I won't see Cecilia again."

Just like that, I carried all the insults and contempt from our circle and remarried him.

While he became the devoted husband everyone praised, never abandoning his unfaithful wife, so loyal and honorable.

Only I knew what sordid truth lay beneath this devoted performance.

Perhaps Damian had some feelings for me-otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to remarry and give my parents a lifeline.

But the one he truly loved was always Cecilia, that heavy "debt of gratitude" he spoke of, his carefully calculated future.

Just like today. He could let the whole world speak ill of me, but couldn't stand anyone saying a bad word about Cecilia.

I stopped looking at the man on the bed.

Just as the silence in the bedroom was about to freeze the air, a shrill ringtone shattered it.

Diana's POV

Damian practically shot up, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

The screen lit up, showing the contact name as "Friend."

His expression changed. The lingering drunkenness and irritation were instantly replaced by urgency.

He threw off the covers and got out of bed, his movements almost frantic.

While hastily pulling on his jacket, he spoke rapidly to me.

"My friend has an emergency. I need to go. I'll be back soon."

I remained seated in the chair, unmoving, silent.

I knew whose number that was.

He thought he'd hidden it well, changing "Cecilia Martin" to this safe contact name, erasing all traces.

He didn't know-or didn't care-that I actually knew everything.

I just didn't care anymore.

Damian, fully dressed, walked to the door, then seemed to remember something and came back.

He leaned down and affectionately kissed my forehead.

"Wait for me."

His breath brushed against my skin, tickling.

"I'll be back soon. Tomorrow I'll take you to meet the person in charge."

"Your parents' situation-we need to talk face-to-face to have any room for negotiation."

After saying this, without another glance at me, he turned, opened the door, and his figure quickly disappeared into the dim hallway light.

I slowly raised my hand, touching the spot on my forehead that still seemed slightly damp, and smiled.

Be back soon?

Every time he received a call from Cecilia, he said the same thing.

But every time, there was a different reason for him to stay there.

She was in a bad mood. She wasn't feeling well. Her electrical circuit broke. She had a nightmare...

I used to wait like a fool, from deep night until daybreak, from hope until heartbreak.

Damian clearly knew I was more afraid of the dark than Cecilia.

Because when I was young, my parents were busy with work and hired an irresponsible nanny.

That woman locked me in a dark, damp basement for hours at a time.

That terror of being swallowed by endless darkness was carved into my bones.

Before I met Damian, I never dared sleep with the lights off.

It was him, bit by bit, holding my hand and telling boring stories, who helped me through those endless nights.

So that later, I finally dared to turn off the lights and sleep peacefully in our bedroom.

But he seemed to have forgotten.

He only remembered that Cecilia was afraid of the dark-one phone call and he'd rush over to be the "hero" who dispelled the darkness.

The entrance became completely quiet.

I stood up and walked to the window, watching the familiar car below light up its taillights and quickly drive away.

We met at a charity gala.

Across the noisy crowd, he saw me at a glance, and I happened to look back.

That moment was just like a slow-motion scene in a movie.

Friends beside me sneered that Damian was just a poor nobody with no background, hardly worthy of me.

Even my parents firmly objected, afraid I'd suffer with him.

But I was so foolish, so brave then.

I threw myself at him without hesitation, moved into the shabby little apartment he rented.

And he was truly good to me once, wholeheartedly good.

When his salary was meager, he could hand it all to me without keeping a cent.

He had no bad habits. Wherever he went, he reported to me, openly introducing me to everyone as "my wife, Diana."

He handled all the housework. Even after running around all day, coming home late at night, he'd draw hot water to wash my feet.

The most heart-stopping time, I was taken hostage by criminals, my life hanging by a thread.

He stepped forward without hesitation, offering to exchange himself for me.

In the end, I was unharmed, but he took several stab wounds and struggled in the emergency room for three days and nights before barely surviving.

With this life-risking devotion, he finally passed my parents' test.

In our family's small garden, he knelt on one knee, offering all his savings.

He was so nervous his palms sweated, his words clumsy but sincere.

"Diana, I'm not good with fancy words, but everything I have is yours."

I cried uncontrollably, thinking I'd grasped the most solid happiness in the world.

But what happened later?

Later, this same man who once loved me like life itself gently explained to me when bringing Cecilia here.

"Cecilia is a girl living alone. Dorms aren't safe, and the environment is complicated."

Then he took almost all the savings we'd built together over the years.

And he bought Cecilia a nice house. Cozy. Beautiful.

The favoritism was so blatant, it was almost beyond belief.

Diana's POV

I did ask, question, and make a fuss.

But every time, he looked at me with those eyes that once held nothing but love for me, earnestly.

Then spoke that impeccable excuse.

"Diana, without the support of Cecilia's parents, I would have starved to death on the streets. How could I be where I am today?"

"They're like parents to me who gave me life. Cecilia is like my real sister. Don't worry. The person I love most will always be you."

I loved him too much back then. Loved him enough to numb myself.

Loved him enough to believe that lie, that gratitude and love are two different things.

That bit of discomfort in my heart was forcibly suppressed by overwhelming love.

Even after our first divorce, he still had the flower shop deliver a bouquet of my favorite white roses every single day without fail.

When everyone misunderstood that I'd cheated, they thought Damian going to the flower shop every day to carefully select roses for me was so devoted and affectionate.

But only I knew this relationship had finally rotted.

Even though he agreed to remarry and promised not to have excessive contact with Cecilia.

I knew they never truly cut off contact privately.

Those changed contact names, late-night phone calls, occasionally glimpsed walks side by side.

All silently mocking my self-deception.

I thought, once my parents' situation was resolved, maybe I should finally let go.

I would fulfill them and release myself.

I didn't want to be caught between them anymore, enduring the slut-shaming day after day, living like a joke.

I'd already written and submitted the divorce application.

This time I'd leave with nothing-this house, this empire he'd built, I wanted none of it.

Consider it payment for his help resolving the problem.

After all, asking strangers for favors always requires paying a price.

But Damian, once he left, didn't return for several days.

Calls went straight to busy signals or no answer.

I tried finding him at his company but was politely stopped at the entrance.

When I tried to ask around, those faces that used to fawn and flatter were now cold and distant. No one wanted to get involved.

I even lost my mind and went to his rural hometown, only to find it overgrown with weeds from long neglect.

Time passed anxiously, bit by bit. I forgot to count the days.

Until I stumbled back to the city in a daze and received devastating news.

My parents had been sentenced to ten years in prison, to be executed immediately.

No delay, no cancellation, no room for negotiation.

Damian never appeared. No notification came.

I completely panicked.

Like a madwoman, I called everyone everywhere, begging with a hoarse voice.

But only evasions, dismissals, and silent hang-ups answered me.

I couldn't find him. That man who swore he'd help me, who said he loved me, had vanished like he'd evaporated from the world.

No one helped me. I couldn't even get visitation rights.

After the massive panic came only numbness.

I stopped looking for Damian. I returned to that empty, cold house and waited like a ghost.

One day, two days...

A month passed. Damian had no news. My parents' side had no news either.

The next time I heard about my parents, a prison guard delivered two small boxes.

Inside were two handfuls of light, weightless ashes.

The guard said my parents were caught up in a prison brawl.

An inmate picked up a table and smashed it on them. Despite resuscitation efforts, they were declared dead.

I didn't cry.

I accepted the boxes, set up a simple memorial altar. In the black-and-white photos, my parents' smiles were still gentle.

I lit candles and knelt on the cushion, staring blankly at the wisps of smoke.

Just then, the door lock sounded.

Damian had returned.

He wore a light-colored casual outfit, his face showing contentment.

He was even carrying a paper bag printed with a resort destination logo.

Pushing open the door, he was obviously stunned.

"Diana?"

He spoke uncertainly, his brows knitting.

"What are you doing?"

I slowly turned my head.

When I saw the displeasure on his face, the volcano I'd been suppressing finally erupted.

I shot up from the floor.

Rushed to Damian and, with all my strength, swung my hand viciously across his face!

Smack!

The crisp sound of slaps was especially harsh in the silent memorial hall.

One after another, without rhythm, only pouring out hatred and despair.

"Damian! You bastard!"

I cried out, my voice broken and hoarse.

"What did you promise me?! You said you'd help me! You'd save my parents!"

"Where were you?! Where the hell did you disappear to?! My parents are dead! They're dead, do you understand?!!"

Damian's face was knocked to the side from my blows, red swollen handprints quickly appearing.

He was stunned by the beating.

Diana's POV

He tilted his head, taking several deep breaths.

"Diana, calm down!"

He grabbed my wrist as I swung again, his grip strong, painfully tight.

"Listen to my explanation! I left in a hurry and forgot to explain in detail."

"About your parents-I inquired carefully later. They're watching it closely from above. There's almost no room to maneuver, it's basically set in stone..."

His tone was urgent, carrying an eagerness to shirk responsibility.

"It just so happened the psychologist said Cecilia had serious emotional and mental problems from the abortion, with signs of depression. It would be best to change environments and relax."

"I had no choice. If something happened to her in that state, how could I face her deceased parents? So I took her away to clear her head..."

He even sighed helplessly, as if bearing tremendous grievance and helplessness.

"I know you've been anxious this whole time, but things have priorities."

"Cecilia's situation was critical. Your parents' matter was already settled."

"Besides, you can't have children anyway. How could you understand Cecilia's pain of losing a baby?"

All my movements froze in that instant.

I couldn't help murmuring.

"I don't have children..."

I looked at this man who once promised me a lifetime.

His face still bore the red marks from my slaps, yet such heart-piercing words came from his mouth.

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, crushed, every fragment stabbing into my flesh, the pain making it almost impossible to breathe.

I wanted to cry out loud, to demand how he could say such things.

But my throat seemed blocked by something. I couldn't make a sound.

Only my body trembled slightly, beyond my control.

I dug my nails deep into my palm with all my might.

I don't have children...

Yes, I could conceive once too.

Who was it that, when he fought for his future at drinking tables, felt sorry for him fighting alone?

Who drank glass after glass by his side, blocking drinks for him, navigating among all kinds of people?

And who was it that, through years of such entertaining and alcohol erosion, gradually broke down physically and lost the qualification to be a mother?

He now pitied Cecilia's pain of losing a child-but what about my pain?

What I lost was far more than an unborn child. It was my hope for a future family, a part of my body.

He forgot. He forgot it all.

My whole body shook violently.

I raised my head and stared at Damian.

Then I grabbed the water glass beside me and hurled it viciously at him.

Damian was caught off guard as hot water splashed his face, choking him into stumbling backward.

But this was just the beginning.

I grabbed and threw whatever I could reach without caring.

"Get out! Damian! Get out! Get out!!"

I screamed.

Damian dodged frantically while trying to stop me.

"Diana! Are you crazy! Stop it!"

In the chaos, I found a ceramic vase.

It was a gift Damian gave me the first time he earned "big money" years ago.

I once treasured it, displaying it in the most prominent place in our home.

Now, I only found it disgusting.

I raised the vase high with both hands and hurled it at Damian with all my life's strength.

Damian dodged to the side hastily.

"Crash!!"

The vase grazed his shoulder and flew past, missing him.

But it struck solidly the figure who had just pushed the door open behind him.

Immediately followed by a woman's piercing scream and the dull thud of something hitting the floor.

Time seemed to freeze for an instant.

I gasped for breath, looking over.

Cecilia pressed her hand to her forehead, staggering against the doorframe. Bright red blood seeped between her fingers.

A delicate paper bag lay torn at her feet, its contents spilling out.

Her face was pale as death. Tears sprang to her eyes, instant and real.

Yet she still forced herself to look up into the room, her voice catching with sobs.

"Sorry... Damian, Diana... I came at a bad time..."

Damian turned around, absolutely furious.

He spun around abruptly, strode up to me in a few steps, and before I could react, raised his hand and slapped me hard!

Two extremely loud slaps, delivered with full force.

Diana's POV

I covered my face as blood seeped through my fingers.

I looked at Damian's back and smiled.

"We're completely finished."

But Damian didn't turn around at all.

He grabbed Cecilia's wrist.

"Come on, I'll take you to the hospital."

He didn't even glance at me.

Just like that, supporting the softly sobbing Cecilia, he disappeared outside the door without looking back.

The room became completely quiet.

Only me, and that lonely paper bag lying at the doorway.

I slowly walked over and bent down to pick it up.

The bag's opening gaped open. Inside was a pair of men's underwear.

Familiar style, familiar color.

My fingers trembled. The paper bag slipped from my palm.

The underwear fell to the floor too, like a glaring stain.

I cried.

At first silently, only my shoulders shaking lightly.

Then I couldn't suppress it anymore. I bent over and crouched down, burying my face in my knees, sobbing loudly.

I don't know how long I cried.

Not until my throat was too hoarse to make sound and my tears seemed dried up did I fall asleep against the wall.

In my dream was a night from many years ago.

Damian clumsily climbed up to my family's windowsill, carefully protecting a somewhat wilted bouquet of roses in his arms.

Moonlight fell on his flushed face. He was so nervous his voice trembled.

"I'm sorry, Diana. I can't afford good ones now, but someday I'll buy you all the roses in the city."In the dream, I smiled as I accepted that less-than-fresh bouquet and gently tucked it into my hair, looking up at him.

"You've already given me the most beautiful roses in the world."

The breeze was light then, and his eyes were bright.

I truly believed we would go on like that forever.

But dreams eventually end.

I was awakened by the sound of the door opening.

Curled up on the floor, I opened my eyes to see Damian walking toward me.

His face showed fatigue, his eyes bloodshot.

He silently bent down, picked me up from the floor, and gently placed me back on the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Only oppression remained between us.

After a long while, Damian finally spoke in a low voice.

"Diana, I never thought we'd become like this."

He reached out as if to touch my face, but stopped mid-air and finally withdrew his hand.

"I was too impulsive yesterday. I apologize."

His voice was hoarse.

"But you know Cecilia's parents were kind to me."

"They died early. I'm all she has left. I can't help but take extra care of her."

I slowly raised my eyes.

"Cecilia doesn't have parents..."

My voice was soft.

"What about my parents? They're gone too, aren't they? I won't have parents who love me anymore either."

I paused, my breathing slightly trembling.

"I trusted you so much, Damian. I placed all my hope in you, but you betrayed my trust."

Damian sighed and lowered his eyes.

"It's all my fault. Whatever anger, whatever hatred you have, direct it at me. Don't do anything to Cecilia. She's suffered enough already."

I looked at him quietly, as if truly seeing this person for the first time.

For Cecilia, he could actually go this far.

"Let's divorce."

I heard my own voice.

"I don't want anything."

Damian's expression changed drastically. He grabbed my hand tightly.

"I can agree to anything except divorce."

"Diana, I love you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't keep coming back, and I certainly wouldn't have chosen to remarry you."

"Is this what you call love?"

I laughed out loud.

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Just then, Damian's phone rang.

He answered. Cecilia's panicked voice came through, full of tears.

"Damian, I woke up in the hospital and didn't see you. I was so worried, I tried to find you myself."

"But there was a rear-end collision on the road. I think I hit someone."

Damian's expression instantly tensed. He stood up abruptly.

"Don't panic. Stay where you are. I'm coming right now!"

He hung up and turned to look at me.

"Wait for me at home. I'll be back soon."

After saying this, without even waiting for my response, he turned and hurriedly left.

I didn't want to wait anymore.

The story between us should have ended long ago.

Since he wouldn't leave, I'd do it myself.

I picked up my phone, found the lawyer's number, and dialed.

When the call connected, my voice was unusually calm.

"Hello, Mr. Lee. I want to retain you to handle my divorce."

"I'll wait at home. Please bring the agreement when it's ready."

After hanging up, I looked out at the darkening sky.

This time, I would never look back.

But the lawyer never came. Damian came first.

When he pushed the door open, his face was haggard. Unshaven. Eyes threaded with red.

He stood at the entrance to the living room, his voice raw.

"Diana, let's talk."